


Technology is not the answer

by Nejinee



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Swearing, steve rogers is adorable and awkward, talk of pornography, technology is scary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7083391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Introducing Bucky to his new, stable life at Stark Tower shouldn't be this damn difficult. Steve is a patient man, but even he can't explain what the internet is. He's not exactly the best example when it comes to assimilating into the 21st century. Natasha and Sam aren't much help either.</p><p>There are things Bucky needs to know, and Steve is a strapping, grown-ass man who does NOT blush red as a plum whenever Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technology is not the answer

**Author's Note:**

> Note: mention of pornography in this story. It's not detailed, but if that is not something you want to read, please feel free to skip (it's closer to the end). If anything else is bothersome/needs to be tagged, let me know!

It had been two months and eighteen days since Bucky came home. Well, since Steve convinced him, dragged him back to New York.

And okay, not really _home_ home _per se_. It was weird, even now, living so close to their memories, their city while sitting atop one of the tallest towers Manhattan could offer.

Sometimes, at twilight, if he faced south, Steve imagined he could see Brooklyn. He visited often enough, still taking in the changes, the years; but standing on Stark’s ludicrous balcony, staring away from the sunset, Steve still looked out, hoping each time that it was still _his_ Brooklyn. His and Bucky’s.

Bucky never really spoke about home much anymore.

He’d had enough to adapt to, after Siberia. After _fucking_ Hydra. 

But he was getting better. Sure, the rest of the Avengers were trying their best (at Steve’s request) to give Bucky a space among them.

Nat was easiest to convince. Tony…well, he wasn’t around much anymore. Steve honestly couldn’t blame him. The others did what they could and Steve couldn’t ask for more, really.

It was just jarring for Bucky. Steve fully understood. This damn century, it had exploded around them and neither of them had time to catch onto anything before they were being bombarded with more data, more history, more ‘shit they’d missed’ as Clint so eloquently put it.

Steve had had a few years to at least give it a shot. SHIELD had him set up with a historian and data banks and audiobooks and real books and holograms and other bizarre tech that spewed information at him almost 24/7. God, if he didn’t have time to train, eat and hide in the bathroom, Steve figures he’d never get away from the constant education.

 

Bucky was having a rough go at it.

He had books. He hated the technology so far. Even the internet was too anger-inducing.

“Why do I need a mailbox I can’t even see?” he grouched one late morning, biting into one of the many fruits that littered the communal kitchen.

“Everyone has email, _Soldat_ ,” Natasha answered, ticking away at one of those small laptops Stark left lying all over the place.

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky groused dryly.

“Noted,” Nat brushed him off.

“C’mon, he doesn’t need email,” Steve had said, feeling bad for his best friend. “He’s got a phone, isn’t that enough?”

Bucky chewed, cheeks full of peach before he swallowed loudly. “Oh,” he sat back on the barstool at the kitchen counter and dipped his hand into his pants pocket. “I meant to say…” he then dropped a smattering of plastic bits and wires onto the white marble. 

“Dude!” Sam’s voice always carried when he was exasperated. “Didn’t we just give you that! Damnit, Steve, tell your boy to take care of his shit, man.”

Bucky blinked at the busted phone, then pulled his peach back in for another bite. Steve’s mouth twitched. 

“No, don’t go all soft on him, Rogers,” Sam snapped, walking behind Natasha to get to the fancy, overcomplicated coffee machine. “You let him walk all over you, you know what’ll happen.”

It was meant as a joke, but it definitely fell flat.

Bucky eyed Sam. Sam clicked buttons and swivelled cups around on the crazy coffee contraption before turning, Nat and the kitchen island separating him from Bucky. “You know what I mean,” he huffed.

Bucky just glared. Then he continued chewing.

Okay, so things weren’t peachy with Sam. This was probably always going to be a problem. Steve could handle it. He’d always be willing to handle this.

He wanted Bucky safe, he wanted Bucky home. Sam, well, Sam was more welcoming than Steve could have ever asked for, but it wasn’t exactly easy.

“You see a masked murderous motherfucker shoot Captain Goddamn America in the gut and you tell me if you think he should be your roommate,” Sam had snapped once. Steve got it.

Sam tried, okay?

Bucky, uh, he kinda tried.

But Bucky had enough on his plate.

The first few weeks had been taxing. Seventy years of brainwashing and murder and guilt and loneliness took its toll.

Hill had a psychiatrist on call 24/7 specially for the super soldiers in residence at Stark Tower. Steve reluctantly had to admit Dr Hameed was good. So good, Steve had felt less anxiety these days about his whole ‘Grandpa Rogers’ state of being. He was dealing with it. He could do it. He had faith these days, more hope than before. It was how he managed to get Bucky to agree to weekly meetings with the Doc.

Yes, he’d torn the door off her office, and frightened the ever-loving shit out of her assistant, but Bucky’d _apologized_ , guys! Progress was still progress, right?

 

Settling into Stark Tower was hard on Bucky. It wasn’t _just_ that no one trusted him. It was more than the security protocols put in place upon his arrival. It was the sheer enormity of freedom that kind of freaked him out.

Initially Steve was worried that him becoming Bucky’s official roommate was going to make his best friend freak out a little. 

But it was okay so far. They shared living quarters on one of the top floors, had a wide open balcony looking out across the city, and a couple floors down, they could bump into Natasha, Vision and Wanda roaming about. Sometimes Clint popped by, and Sam was an almost daily occurrence round these parts.

Steve had been continuously, endlessly concerned for Bucky’s mental well-being. Should he leave Bucky be? Give him space, have him feel that at least his own room was a haven? Or should he involve him in Steve’s daily activities, keep him busy, get him accepted into the brotherhood of the Avengers?

Natasha was always right. “You should probably just ask him.”

Ok, sure.

“Just…” Bucky had answered, “Don’t make me do this stuff alone.”

Which was _more_ than enough for Steve.

He went with Bucky to therapy. He sat quietly and watched Dr Hameed gently coax feelings and emotions out of the rock-hard Russian Hydra assassin-turned Avenger. He winced when Bucky just stared at her whenever she probed too far into his mind.

Steve hung out with Bucky, showed him the ropes, the gym, the weird kitchen appliances.

“It washes the dishes? Like, _for us?_ ” 

“I know, right?”

He introduced Bucky to Cable TV and Netflix, and microwavable popcorn, and treadmills and Adele and Lilo & Stitch and hundreds of other things that may not be important in their history books, but damnit, Steve figured was good info for Bucky.

 

When Steve realized Bucky retained his multitude of languages, he went to town buying foreign films on DVD and teaching Bucky how to turn the subtitles on and off, depending on the current guests. Bucky loved 3D animated films too, as much as Steve. It was fucking crazy how they could both just gape in awe at a clown fish with a gimpy fin getting lost in a Sydney dental office.

So there was a lot of stuff.

And the whole super soldier thing? Yeah, kinda weird but also kinda awesome. Finally Steve had someone who could pace him. It’s like they came full circle. First Bucky was the big, strong one who threw punches, then it was Steve and Bucky’s wide, gaping eyes. Now it was both of ‘em. Both massive strapping men with too much energy to burn.

“Yeah, on your damn left,” Sam groused whenever the two of them headed down to the gym together.

Bucky rarely wanted to workout outdoors, still adjusting to the arm in public. He wasn’t exactly a guest in the eyes of, well, anyone. And working out with a hoody and gloves was no fun.

Which is how today was starting.

“You’re gonna get cramps, Buck,” Steve huffed when Bucky threw the remains of his peach in the sink beside Nat and then leaned over for another fruit.

“Can’t,” Bucky slurred around a juicy mouthful. “Super Soldier. Super stomach.”

Natasha grabbed the new peach out of his metal grasp. “You don’t deserve another one. Learn to use the trash, buddy.”

Bucky eyed her, then the peach. “I’ll fight you for it.”

Natasha smirked. “Yeah, okay, I’d like to see you try.”

Sam sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter, still watching Bucky. “You really don’t though.”

Bucky snorted and slipped off the barstool.

He stretched, arms going high. “Fine. Eat my fuzzy peach.”

Nat made a face at that.

“What?” Bucky frowned, looking over his shoulder at Steve. “Is that another saying? Is it?”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t even know anymore.”

“You old farts,” Nat huffed and went back to her laptop. “I’ll order you a new phone while you’re pumping iron, you bozos.”

“Have we been dismissed?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed and slapped Bucky’s shoulder. “I need a run. Let’s go.”

Bucky followed Steve out to the main hallway, to the connecting elevator.

Four floors down, it opened up onto Stark’s state-of-the-art gym, fitted with the biggest, baddest gym equipment money could buy. They’d unfortunately had to upgrade everything once Steve moved in. “How the fuck did you destroy a treadmill, Cap?” Clint had queried one day, eyeing the distraught mess Steve had made. 

“I don’t know! I’m not over the weight limit!”

“Yeah, check the amount of force though,” Stark had muttered, kicking at treadmill shrapnel. “Goddamnit, Captain Destroyer.”

 

So _anyway_ , gym-time was good for both Steve and Bucky.

Sure, both could metabolize nutrients faster than any other people on earth, but they also produced way too much energy to be contained in a day of couch-slouching.

So the gym was a necessity. It helped Steve think and it made Bucky less of a grouch. 

Early-morning Bucky was like having the merchant of death roaming the halls. No one liked to witness that.

 

“I’m sorry I broke the phone,” Bucky said gruffly, as he rounded one of the super-sturdy treadmills that stood along the far glass wall.

Steve followed, noting how clear the sky was outside. Bucky caught his gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve chuckled. “I wasn’t gonna say anything in front of them, but I went through a few on my first few weeks back.”

“Weeks?” Bucky cocked a brow.

Steve laughed, “Yeah, I might have pretended I lost mine during a fight or two. I mean, they’re not easy to remember, right?”

“Exactly!” Bucky crowed, hands flipping high. He climbed onto one of the treadmills, already familiar with the buttons and dials. “I don’t think I gotta have one with me all the time.”

“It’s crazy,” Steve added. “I mean, everyone has one, and they panic if it’s outta sight for even a second.”

“I saw a guy using his at a damn urinal once,” Bucky intoned gravely. Steve’s look matched his. _Freakin’ gross_.

“Yeah, so don’t worry about the phone. It’s just in case. Like if I need to text you.”

“You text me videos of turtles eating tomatoes,” Bucky side-eyed him. Steve stepped up onto his own treadmill, right beside his friend.

“Yeah, on the internet!”

Bucky made a whiny grunt noise and shook his head. “No, no, I don’t know!” He jabbed at some buttons and his machine started to hum. Bucky started walking, mindful of where he gripped the treadmill’s arms. There were already some pretty mad-looking gouges in the machine already.

“C’mon, Buck, you’re gonna understand it! It’s not so hard,” Steve laughed, starting his own machine up.

“You explain to me how computers, or plastic things with buttons and touchy _doodads_ talk to other, further away doodads that people also use to talk to one another with. Explain the internet, Steve.”

“I don’t know what it _is!”_ Steve cried with a shrug. He ambled along on the treadmill, keeping pace with Bucky. “It’s just, this tool, okay? You gotta think of it as a very intelligent mail system and the mail comes in a million different ways.”

“And it’s on a bar of soap in my pocket?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I know, my brain kinda broke when they showed me a cellphone first time. I get it. But if you keep your phone you can text people, and call them.”

“But I don’t wanna call people,” Bucky muttered. Who would he call was left unsaid.

“Except me,” Steve pouted, picking up the pace a little.

Bucky gave a wobbly nod of his head. “Enough with the futurist stuff.” He poked a button on the treadmill and kicked his speed up a notch.

“Whatever you want, Buck,” Steve sighed.

 

—-

 

So the world moved at a much faster pace than them.

It was okay.

Times changed, _had_ changed. They pretty much had to let it go or it would drive them crazy.

One time Steve had wandered into their living room late at night, only to find Bucky watching that show with that space scientist with the soothing voice.

“Goddamnit, no, Bucky!” he’d wailed, immediately leaping for the remote. “I told you, no Cosmos at night. It’ll give you and me nightmares both.”

“But there are tiny, really small, things, living on us! So small! And what if there are multiple Steves living in multiple timelines, or planets, and everything exists at once and also, never at all at the same time?” Steve had had to grip Bucky’s face between his hands and stare into those wide blue eyes. “Too much science for one day!” That was also the day the Roomba had been stomped into the ground.

 

So… sometimes it wasn’t okay.

The future was terrifying, even for near indestructible super-serum soldiers. They were manufactured, built for war, not for using invisible money and _Paypal_ and _online shopping._

 

Sam gave them a rundown of ‘existential crisis’ one day, which kinda helped a little.

He’d recommended reading Kafka, which Bucky had loved and Steve had thrown out the skyscraper window. This, unfortunately led to Bucky reading Aldous Huxley and C.S. Lewis, which really made him angry. So Steve had soothed him with one of the many war biographies Sam had lent them, of men in the trenches and systematic explanations of rank and recognition in WWI. They stayed clear of WWII.

 

To ease Bucky into more of the internet, Steve showed him cooking channels on youtube with vegetables and spices neither of them had ever heard of.

“The hell is a cilantro?” Bucky griped.

“Um, a type of potato?” Steve answered carefully from beside him on the sofa. Bucky eyed him cynically. “I dunno, Buck!”

So they got cooking. It was crazy unsettling when Bucky would pull hot pans straight out the oven with his left hand.

“Yeah, it feels hot, Stevie,” Bucky huffed, cutting the cake away from the pan edges, “but not like my other hand hot. It’s just different.”

Cilantro was amazing. Sam wouldn’t eat anything with it, though, so Steve and Bucky had a lot of cilantro dishes to get through.

 

Steve introduced Bucky to the many waves of feminism and Civil Rights that America broke through. That part of history was fascinating. The whole feminism thing was crazy to read. It was so hard to just imagine any of this stuff happening back in the thirties and forties.

It was a little more challenging to explain when Steve took Bucky outside.

Sure, Bucky wasn’t dangerous, not now, but he could very easily be overwhelmed by New York at large.

In Central Park, Bucky stood still one day, absolutely captivated.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve hissed and tugged at his friend’s elbow. “No staring.”

Bucky blinked, his eyes still following a woman as she passed. “But her shirt is so–“

Steve tried not to blush, or draw attention to them. “I know, I know. Women have the right to wear whatever they want.” It’s just still a bit jarring when you’re not used to seeing so much skin.

“Amen,” Bucky breathed, blinking as another woman walked by in a soft summer dress.

“Just …don’t be rude,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms.

Bucky slowly looked over at him, “Am I?”

“You’re oglin’ the dames,” Steve smirked, his accent getting broader.

Bucky smiled wide at that, making Steve’s chest swell.

“There are a _lot_ of beautiful women in this city.”

Steve chuckled, “Okay, calm down, Freddy-boy.”

Bucky scowled, “Hey, don’t lump me in with _that_ guy.”

“But you’re so pretty, Buck,” Steve smiled.

Which made Bucky snort with laughter, like the old days.

 

—

 

But the internet!

Still, a difficult sell. Once Bucky accepted his needing a cellphone, it was easier to coax him into using the internet more freely.

His eyes widened when he realized it could do math for him. Or when it knew the answer to things like, “what’s the difference between a mouse and a rat?”

Steve did not like rats.

Bucky was a good shot. So there were no more rats prowling the parking garage and they were about twenty forks short in the kitchen.

Otherwise, the internet was unfathomable.

 

All these things seemed to intersect secretly into their everyday doings.

One evening they’d all assembled for movie night, Nat and Sam intent on knocking off more things from Steve’s (which Bucky also scribbled on) list.

 

“Oh, are you okay there, Cap?” Natasha said from her cozy single seat. Steve felt popcorn pelting his hair.

“I’m fine,” Steve mumbled, looking skyward. Natasha snorted loudly.

“I’ll all be over soon,” Sam chuckled, sipping at his beer.

“You’re making fun of me,” Steve sighed, glaring over at his two supposed friends.

“Your face is _so_ red, though,” Natasha smiled.

“It’s not even that racy, Cap!” Sam waved a hand at the woman onscreen in the skimpy bathing suit. “You’re missing a great scene!”

Goddamn, Steve couldn’t help it. They kept calling him prudish and mocking his sense of ‘propriety’ but it wasn’t that. He just wasn’t used to this still, this flagrant disregard for clothing.

“Do people really wear that stuff?” came Bucky’s voice beside him.

Steve looked over at his friend. Bucky was just squinting at the tv.

“It’s Hollywood, Buck–”

“Of course they do,” Sam butted in. “Man, girls be wearin’ whatever they got handy down at the beach. Lord help you if you ever hit L.A.”

Natasha hummed, “Yeah you get the best of both worlds out west. Lots of speedos these days, seem to be making some kind of comeback.”

“Spee-does?” Steve murmured, unsure.

“I’ll internet it,” Bucky said, pulling out his phone. Sam and Nat both twisted eagerly to see Bucky tap away at his screen.

“Okay, no,” Steve snatched at the offensive device. He pointed a finger each at Nat and Sam. “You guys are troublemakers.”

Bucky’s fingers were grasping futilely, his face a moue of consternation. Steve jammed the phone down the seat cushion. “No,” Steve added.

 

So the sexuality on parade thing was new.

Steve was learning a whole lot of new terms. Stuff he didn’t even know existed that apparently had always been around, just that no one spoke about it, or acknowledged it. Like transgender, and two-spirit.

“So it’s like, queers in the army?” Bucky said one morning, chewing his lip as he thumbed over his _devil_ of a phone.

Steve choked on his coffee. “What?” He coughed, grabbing for a dish towel. “I thought you were reading up on stuff to do next week?”

Bucky turned his phone to Steve, showing off a bright image declaring “PRIDE WEEK!”

What’s this got to do with the army?” Steve rumbled, clearing his throat.

Bucky shrugged his broad shoulders. He’d taken to wearing what could only be t-shirts with the sleeves torn off. Steve was finding it very distracting, especially when Buck came back from the gym soaked in sweat, his ribs visible through the gaping arm holes. Arm holes that exposed massive biceps and round shoulders and strong forearms with careful, but dangerous hands and fingers–

Steve swallowed. This big, strong Bucky was something else. Was he ever going to get used to it?

 

“Are you even listening?” 

Steve jolted, eyes snapping up. “Yes?”

Bucky made an exasperated face. “I tell you what, you still put the dumb in dumbbell.”

 

—

 

It was Nat that stirred the damn pot.

She loved making Steve blush. At every opportunity, she’d play some kind of racy tune in her fancy car. Something about ‘gettin’ down’, or ‘gettin’ started’, or other things that definitely were not about climbing ladders or fixing engines.

 

She would pester him and Bucky all the time about what women were like back in the day, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth. Then she really went all-in.

“You left your mail!” Steve barked one afternoon, waving his arm in the general direction of the kitchen counter.

Natasha was bent over, untying her shoes when she looked up at him. “Oh, did I?”

Like she even got _mail_ , who was Steve kidding? He just needed it gone.

“You get mail?” Bucky sauntered past, intrigued.

Before Steve could stop him, Bucky was rifling through the pile of papers on the counter. He pulled out a magazine-like thing.

Steve leaned over quickly and snatched it away. “It’s not–“

Damnit, too late. Bucky immediately snatched it back. He stared at Steve, brows dark, as he pulled the flimsy rag to the side.

“Oh, the new Victoria’s Secret catalogue,” Natasha said, brushing past Bucky to get to the coffee. “That’s just standard trash. Probably an old Tony subscription, or whatever. Lord knows he wouldn’t mind more garbage filling this hole of a home.”

Steve was just watching Bucky’s face.

Bucky’s lips were open slightly as he carefully looked over each page in turn.

Steve hadn’t even bothered going through the magazine-thing, just covered it up with flyers.

“Hm,” Natasha peeked over Bucky’s arm. “Anything interesting?”

Bucky gently touched a page and looked at her. Nat smirked, “I know, right?”

“We definitely didn’t have this stuff back home,” Bucky said wistfully, eyes trailing all over what was probably scantily clad supermodels is provocative poses. “Wow. So this just arrives in the mail? Man, that sounds illegal.”

“Says the assassin,” Nat mumbled.

Bucky looked up, eyes full of wonder. He turned the open spread towards Steve. “you seen this, Stevie? Can you _imagine_?”

Goddamnit. Steve could feel it, the damn blush rising up his neck. 

“No, Buck, I can’t,” he steadfastly stared over the page, at his best friend. “It wouldn’t have been right.”

“Hm,” Bucky tilted his head and adjusted his stance a little. Oh Lord.

“They have a website too,” Nat smirked.

“So I don’t need this?” Bucky waved the magazine at Nat.

“Nope!” She smiled widely.

Bucky’s face lit up. “Amazing,” and he pulled out that Godforsaken phone again and off he went.

“It’s gone be lunch soon!” Steve yelled at his retreating back.

“Sounding a little desperate there, Cap,” Nat said smugly.

“You damn double-agent!” Steve hissed.

 

—

 

It was so late, _so late_ when Steve was awoken from his deep, comforting slumber.

“What? Buck? What is it?”

Because it had to be Bucky at … three o’clock on a Tuesday morning. Steve squirmed in his comforter, veering away from some godawful light Bucky was holding.

“Look, Steve, come on, this is crazy,” fingers poked at Steve and he grunted. “Move,” Bucky said, voice all authority.

So Steve shunted over, made room and rolled over to glare at his best friend.

“Look!” Bucky thrust his phone at Steve’s eyeballs. 

“Whoa, hold up,” Steve leaned back before sitting up wearily. God, there was barely enough room on his bed for the both of them. This wasn’t 1934 anymore, back when he was a third his size and Bucky was half his.

“What am I looking at?” Steve leaned against the headboard.

“This,” Bucky leaned in so he could look too, “Is free, on the internet.”

Steve blinked owlishly and rubbed his eye. Huh?

“Oh God, Bucky! What are we–what is–you can’t just–where did you get that!” He pushed at the hand holding the phone.

Bucky chuckled. “Sorry, okay, maybe not the best opener. Let me find something cleaner.”

In the glow of his phone, Bucky chewed on his lower lip happily as he scrolled over his phone.

“Was… was that–“ Steve stammered.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “Nat told me about this. Free on the internet. Will wonders never cease?”

“Wait, okay, yes, i’ve heard about it. Porn.”

At that, Bucky looked up and his eyes glowed. “You dirty old man,” he murmured with a grin.

“No, wait, I never looked it up, but it’s been mentioned. I mean, what you just showed me, did … did that lady give permission?”

Bucky cocked his head.

“For that to be, um, on the internet? Her, uh, you know-”

“Oh!” Bucky nodded. “Yeah, Natasha said I shouldn’t look at other websites though. She recommended this one because it’s, uh, ethical? Or something. Says there’s bad stuff too and yeah, no.”

“Steve groaned. Natasha was going to die.

“Oh, look, here,” Bucky turned his phone and there was sound and video this time.

“Oh my God,” Steve flushed. “Buck, Jeez.”

“Well, she’s havin’ a good time, right?”

And yes, the lady on the screen was indeed having an enjoyable evening. 

Steve was mortified and ashamed and also kind of mesmerized. 

“I ain’t never seen a woman do that,” Bucky murmured. “Not when I was around anyway.”

Steve cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Seems… good. I guess.”

Bucky hummed. “There’s men on here too, if you can figure that out.”

God, Steve was going to combust and it was gonna be in the news: “Captain America burns Stark Tower to the ground; gets an erection at an awkward moment.”

Bucky slid down the bed and just sort of stared at his phone.

“Buck?” Steve murmured, glad the darkness hid his face.

“Yeah?”

“Are you stayin’ here tonight?”

Bucky’s phone went dark and he clattered about before it thunked down on the bedside table.

“Yeah, that okay?”

Steve felt the bed shake as Bucky rolled back over, normal as ever.

It wasn’t odd. They shared a bed all the time; Nightmares, loneliness, etcetera.

“Of course,” Steve sighed and shuffled back down to his pillow. 

It wouldn’t be the first time he neglected to mention he had an awkward boner waiting in the wings. It would be okay. It was just Bucky.

 

Just Bucky.

 

—

 

“Morning,” Natasha said as Steve appeared the next day, later than usual. She sat with Bucky as they both enjoyed their morning cup of joe.

“Hi,” Steve growled, still in his sweatpants, hands clenched at his sides. Both Nat and Bucky watched him make a beeline for the balcony sliding door, open it wide, step outside and lob something over the low metal railing. Whatever it was, it flew far.

When Steve stepped back in, sliding the door shut behind him, they blinked slowly.

“Anything we need to know?” Nat asked.

Steve just looked up and smiled wide. “Nope. Nothing to see here.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into Captain America! Hello! I've fallen for these fools.  
> Thank you for reading. Any errors you see are all me me me.
> 
> If you enjoyed, a kudos and/or a comment would make my day. :)


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